Dirty Little Secret
by edmelon
Summary: To put it lightly, Amu and Ikuto have never seen eye-to-eye. In fact, their rivalry is the most legendary celebrity feud in recent years. But it seems there might be something there beneath all the bickering and animosity... Because, after all, when you're trying to avoid a national scandal, who has to know? Amuto.
1. Chapter 1

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 _Dirty Little Secret_

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 _Summary:_ To put it lightly, Amu and Ikuto have never seen eye-to-eye. In fact, their rivalry is the most legendary celebrity feud in recent years. But it seems there might be something there beneath all the bickering and animosity... Because, after all, when you're trying to avoid a national scandal, who has to know?

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* * *

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If looks could have killed, everybody knew that half of the stars up on that stage would have been dead by now. Nobody could have replicated the scowl that tore apart Amu's dainty features as she glared at him with all her might. All of her concentration, it seemed, was on him. Hating him. Loathing him. _Despising_ him!

And yet the man merely smirked at her, casually sat back, resting his chin on his fist and — ugh, _God_ , couldn't he wipe that devious look off of his face? It _disgusted_ her! His eyes twinkled with a sadistic sort of mischief... Or maybe it was just the cameras flashing in every corner that lit up the deep, dark blue of his eyes.

Why she had agreed to this — to attending this damned interview with him — she'd never know! She could have had this all over and done with in just a moment! At least she _could_ have. She could have if _the_ Ikuto Tsukiyomi wasn't so intent on making her life a living hell.

Amu's nails gripped into the arm of the plush sofa she was currently sat on with such strength that it was a wonder the fabric didn't tear. Not that it mattered that much anyway when she was set on giving him the look of death.

"Oh, what's that, _Strawberry?"_ He drawled, smirking still and putting extra emphasis on that particular fruit-related word he knew annoyed her. That God damned sneer widened another inch or so. "What? Nothing to fight back with? Haven't any witty comebacks you'd like to share?" A dry chuckle left his chest that increased her ire tenfold. _"Speechless?"_

Her patience snapped and in that moment nothing else mattered. Not the presenter, not the audience, not the hundreds upon hundreds of viewers, not even the _'flash, flash, flash!'_ nor the _'click, click, click!'_ of the cameras belonging to the plague of reporters that had crammed themselves into the studio. Amu stood, the sofa creaking out a sigh of relief beneath her and faced him, red in the face. She relished in that short moment in which she, for once, towered over him and spat;

" _You!_ As if I'm just gonna take your crap as it comes! Why in _hell_ am I even here if it means I have to be stuck with _you?_ I can barely fit beside your massive ego as it is!"

Another obnoxious camera flash went OF somewhere beside her, blinding her temporarily, but her golden eyes cane back into focus just in time to see her rival rise to his feet.

"Yes, _why? WHY are you here?"_ he yelled back just as fiercely, if not louder, but the woman didn't so much as flinch. She was used to it. Everybody was, but before she could dwell on the thought, a sneer brought her attention back to the present.

"Getting desperate?" Ikuto mocked. "Anything for an extra few followers? You need this — you _need_ to be such a pathetic little drama whore nowadays, don't you? Or else one would ever pay attention to you!"

" _You—!"_

"And why would they?" Ikuto cut her off, moving towards her, slow and deliberate. "Who would even take a second glance at _you?"_

Amu practically hissed at him. Oh, her contempt for him reached no bounds.

"We can't all just have our fame handed down to us now, can we, _Ikuto?"_

A string of expletives left Ikuto's mouth as he stepped yet closer and it was as their full-on verbal war began to kick off that the reporter stepped in front of the image on the screen, headlines scrolling in neon text beneath her pixelated form.

"And so once again, tonight's interview with the cast of the long-awaited _'Clown Drop!'_ ended in another heated battle between musician Ikuto Tsukiyomi and up-and-coming actress Amu Hinamori! But, of course, when these two step in the spotlight together, what else can anyone really expect?" The reporter laughed lightly to herself, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Beside her played the now silent video of the night's events, where the two celebrities stood throwing abuse at each other. The picture had zoomed out to capture the entire stage and behind them sat their fellow cast members. A pair of purple-haired twins sat frozen in their seats, stunned still; a short blonde woman calmly sipped a cup of tea as if nothing was wrong; and the host at his desk kept glancing nervously to his right as the interview fell apart, presumably in the general direction of his security guards.

"As we've seen over the past three years, these two have frequently had their disputes and so, as you'd expect, critics are now asking — what will become of this summer's most anticipated comedy? Should we be afraid for this production's success? With these troubling thoughts on our minds, we asked for the opinion of Miss Hinamori's manager who has this to say,"

The image changed briefly to that of a man in his thirties, looking like a deer in the reporter's headlights, his ginger hair sticking out in all directions and his green tie askew.

"W-Well," the man fiddled with his collar as at least seven microphones were shoved under his nose. "Ah, well, let's see, this-this is only the beginning after all! I feel that with time the two will be able to set aside their differences. It's only right, you know?" He adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat, apparently finding his confidence. "No, I can assure you, there'll be no further problems here."

The little section with Amu's manager ended, but instead of going back to the female reporter, the clip of that fateful TV interview resumed. Ikuto waved a hand to dismiss whatever insult Amu had thrown at him and silently left the set, taking the exit to the left. Meanwhile Amu huffed, threw her arms up in the air and marched off to the right, barging past her skittish manager who had clumsily clambered up onto the stage. The cameras cut off as swarms of paparazzi and journalists pushed past security and leapt up to chase after them. Amateur footage followed as they pursued the fuming stars backstage.

 _"HINAMORI!"_

 _"TSUKIYOMI!"_

 _"IKUTO, SIR!_ How can you be expected to work with—"

"—if you can't get along with them?"

"Has this experience at all changed your attitude towards—"

"—or would you say there's no hope of reconciliation?"

"Are you just trying to avoid working together?"

Ikuto turned on the speaker with a growl. " _Let me tell you something!"_

" _You want my answer?"_ Amu whirled around, pink locks flying.

"I would _never—"_

"I couldn't even _dream_ of ever working—"

"—with that attention-seeking Strawberry!"

"—conceited _bastard!"_

"Hinamori!"

"Tsukiyomi! You never explained exactly—"

"—never shared with us—"

"—what caused this rift in the first place?"

"I won't—"

"—can't say—"

The two came to a stop outside their respective dressing rooms and opened the door, giving the reporters one last glance.

"But what's the point?"

"Does it really matter? All that needs to be said is that me and Ikuto—"

"—Hinamori and I—"

 _"—can't work together!"_

And both interviews were cut off with the deafening slams of not one, but two doors as they both disappeared out of sight.

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* * *

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Hours later, the corridors had become deserted. The studios lay empty, the rows upon rows of seats vacant and not a single journalist in sight. The producers and film crew and even the flabbergasted host of the night's show had all packed up the last of their equipment, checked off their schedules and left the building. All that remained were a few cleaners on the lower floors and the faint echo of traffic outside, filtering in through an open window somewhere below. Other than that, there were almost no signs of life in the usually crowded and hectic building.

Almost.

A shrill creak rent the still air, splitting through the silence as Amu slowly, carefully, eased open her dressing room door. She winced, closing her eyes, and took a deep breath. It was okay, she reminded herself, no one was here. Everyone was gone...

She closed the door quietly behind her and made a mental note to get someone to oil the hinges tomorrow morning when she arrived for work. She let out a long sigh of relief. Thank God no one was here now though. Now out of her glamorous attire and her face free and clean of makeup, sporting only a loose shirt and jeans, Amu was completely deflated and more than ready to get home and collapse straight into her warm, comfy bed after the ridiculous events of the evening. She just wanted to relax. Her interview had been disastrous, her image once again tainted and to top it all off her manager had nearly had a panic attack once they'd gotten back to her dressing room.

Yes, it would be bed, takeaway and crappy TV tonight, she thought. Adjusting her handbag over her shoulder, Amu turned and headed back past the studio they'd been using earlier that day. It was a longer route towards the exit, but it would take her straight to the back and into the staff car park where (hopefully) no one would be around to intercept her. It was just past the studio, past the producer's offices, past most of the other dressing rooms...

Past _his_ dressing room.

Amu swallowed thickly. A shiver ran through her. No, no one would be there anymore, she told herself firmly. It only took a few minutes to get there, but those few minutes felt like an eternity. Every small sound, every echo had her on edge. What if someone _was_ still there? What if they were someone who _shouldn't_ be here? More than once a paparazzi had been found lurking in a storage cupboard or something, ready to leap out and take pictures of some unsuspecting star.

Or maybe it was _him._

Amu huffed. If it really was him, he'd pay. She'd told him before not to sneak up on her.

But, suddenly drawing her out of her thoughts, she saw it. Not the exit; not some poorly hidden paparazzi or anything. She had stopped outside of it — Ikuto Tsukiyomi's private dressing room. His name glittered in gold upon it, stark in contrast against the dark wood. She stared timidly up at the door, fighting with herself for a moment. And then she knocked. She could feel her pulse pounding like mad. Suppose someone saw her here? Suppose he'd already left and there were cleaners in there or something? They'd open the door and see her and that'd be it for sure!

Taking a breath to calm herself, the woman knocked again, firmer this time. A few seconds ticked by... and still no response. He must have already gotten changed and left the building.

Amu was about to turn and leave herself when all of a sudden she found herself enveloped by two strong arms that snaked around her wait from behind — out of nowhere! She gasped in surprise, her shoulders hitting a hard chest and a deep rumble vibrating throughout her back;

"Looking for me, Strawberry?"

Amu tilted her head back. Golden eyes found darkest blue. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Usually Amu would snap. Usually she'd grumble in disgust and flush bright red with anger. But instead, she rolled her eyes, her cheeks tinted a soft shade of pink at the nickname.

"Who else, idiot?" She said, but this time there was no bite... And Ikuto chuckled with amusement — no mockery or scorn, but pure, genuine amusement that reached his eyes. He reluctantly let her go and was quickly filled by emptiness the moment her warmth separated from him.

"So," he began, "think we had them all fooled?"

Amu failed to hide a mischievous grin. "Oh, I think so."

The smirk returned, but this time it wasn't harsh. This time Amu didn't hate it. "I think we should be very satisfied with ourselves tonight, Amu."

"You can say that again!" She laughed brightly. "Give me a chance to think up a good comeback though next time! I can't let you have the smart tongue _all_ the time!"

Another chuckle. Ikuto leaned in closer, so close that they were touching again. Before she could prepare herself, Ikuto had slung an arm back around her waist, dragging her closer still. He cupped her cheek in one hand, eyes locked with hers, entrancing her...

" _Amu..."_ Ikuto purred. The sound made her heart leap in her chest. Her cheeks were flushed, she could feel them burning! How did he do this to her? And their lips; oh their lips were so close, "If there's one thing you know about me by now... it's that I have a _very_ smart tongue..."

"Ikuto..."

He closed the gap between them and pulled her in for a deep, yet sweet, loving kiss. Amu gripped at his jacket, moaning softly as Ikuto ran a hand through her pink hair. She was sure he could feel her heartbeat skipping as she pressed herself against him, melting into him, falling into his enchantment...

They parted audibly, breathless, lips flushed. Amu almost frowned in disappointment, but one look at her surroundings brought her that bitter reminder — this was not the place.

Ikuto brought his hands to her shoulders and placed one last, tender peck on her forehead before stepping back.

"Well, Strawberry," he said softly, "I expect I'll have to go speak with my dear manager after what happened tonight, so I guess I'll see you on set tomorrow morning."

Amu nodded, still slightly dazed and brushed her hair back into place. "Mm I guess."

"Hey, Amu, back to earth,"

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, yeah," and she turned to leave. "Bye, Ikuto,"

"What was that, Amu?"

" _Goodbye_ , Ikuto."

" _Amu..."_

A sigh.

"Love you, Ikuto."

"Ah, that's what I thought you said," the man smirked, "my bad — must've misheard."

"Oh yeah, you must have."

His quiet laughter reached her ears as she turned a corner.

"Love you, Amu."

And, as his footsteps faded away, Amu giggled to herself, still trying to shake away that shade of pink from her cheeks. She couldn't quite work out how it had come to be like this...

But with that joyous beat of her heart and those butterflies dancing in her stomach, she wasn't sure she minded.

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* * *

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 _A/N:_ I'd almost completely forgotten about this idea. It's been years since I last planned this story, but thanks to rediscovering some old documents and listening to some old playlists (All-American Rejects have a lot to answer for), it's back and I'm pretty happy that I've at least gotten to finishing the first chapter.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy ^^


	2. Chapter 2

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 _Dirty Little Secret_

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* * *

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Honestly, Amu had no idea _how_ it had come to this. She'd spent the entirety of the night dwelling on it, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out just _why._

She turned off the water with enough force that the tap squeaked shrilly. Hurriedly patting her hands dry on the fluffy towel beside her, she took a quick glance at herself in the mirror and sighed. Just _how_ had Nikaidou talked her into this? Truth be told, she'd rather have been at home right now lounging in her pyjamas with some cheesy sitcom on the TV to keep her entertained for a few hours. Or maybe she could have been relaxing in her unbelievably comfy bed, sinking into the plush covers and getting all of that valuable beauty sleep she needed if she had to be up early for work tomorrow. But no. _Oh no._

" _It'll only be a few hours!"_ He had said. " _You'll be out of there in no time, Amu, dear!"_ So he'd said.

And so here she was wasting time in the bathroom at this stuck-up, fancy party being thrown by some big shot who she didn't even remember working with. In fact, she wasn't sure that she'd done any sort of business with the man at all. All she knew was that she'd been forcibly dragged along as her manager's plus one. Honestly, he'd just brought her so that he didn't feel trapped - she was sure of it! So far all he'd done was spend the evening trying to _avoid_ the obnoxious man that was their host and instead had busied himself trying to introduce her to as many people as possible in the slightest bit of hope that one of them might actually be interested enough in a young, inexperienced model to give him a call.

" _Let's bring you along, Amu! I might be able to, uh, 'spread' you out a bit- if- if you get my saying. See if I can get you any more business! What d'you think, Amu, dear?"_

Amu shook her head. You can bet she'd be _overrun_ with jobs in _no_ time… Yeah right. Trust Nikaidou to get her into a thing like this.

Anyway, she supposed that she had lingered in here long enough. Besides, the gaudy gold bathroom suite was starting to grate on her a little bit, so Amu smoothed down the front of her new red dress, patted her pastel pink hair and made her way out.

" _Don't dawdle too long, Amu, dear!"_

Amu scoffed as Nikaidou's words resounded in her memory. Apparently she had 'all sorts of people' to meet out there and yet all that had really happened was him pushing her into several groups of people with a hasty " _Get to know each other, why don't you!"_ before dashing off to refill his drink. No wonder the man was tipsy. She half expected to return to find him face-down on a plate of canoupés at the bar.

The chatter of the party was getting louder and closer as she picked up her pace down the corridor (because her manager _was_ a really nice guy, after all, and he _had_ done so much for her in their time together) and she was just reaching the doorway when suddenly—

 _ **BAM**_ — _!_

It all happened faster than Amu could react. The door ahead of her burst open without warning. There was yelling in the background. Someone was storming towards her and before Amu knew it she was stumbling, tripping unceremoniously into the path of an oncoming party guest—

" _Hey!"_

Her forehead was smacked slap-bang into the middle of a firm chest and Amu knew she was screwed.

Nice one.

" _I-I'm so sorry!"_ she managed to get out quickly, red-faced and stuttering, tottering back unsteadily on her heels. " _Are-Are you okay, sir?"_

And it was then that the guest recovered and her blush darkened.

Why? Because she recognised him.

' _Oh no!'_

Amu half-wished she had drowned herself in that bathroom. She wished she could just sneak back and lock the door and drown herself in that awful gold bathtub as she came face-to-face with the familiar guest in front of her... And, oh God, she was going to crawl away and shrink into a deep, dark hole of shame for the rest of her life where no one would ever find her.

She was too ashamed to even bombard herself with abuse as she and none other than Ikuto Tsukiyomi locked eye contact.

' _THE Ikuto Tsukiyomi!'_ Amu yelled at herself, heart hammering; ' _Holy shit that's Ikuto Tsukiyomi!'_

She opened her mouth, ready to hurl a wave of feeble-sounding apologies at him… And just about caught herself as ' _the_ ' Ikuto Tsukiyomi shot her the darkest, hardest glare she'd ever been faced with. Her heart pounding wildly and her head horribly light, she figured she should probably start searching for that deep, dark hole pretty soon. _That_ was Ikuto. _That_ was the most famous musician in the entire country. _That_ was the guy that all the paparazzi followed; that all the girls at the party would have wanted; that the media loved to talk about and what would be his impression of her now? Oh, yeah. The clumsy girl with the face that clashed with her hair.

Way to go, Amu.

Not to mention that he would probably have been pretty damned attractive too, if she was going to go there. With that hair of darkest blue, that sculpted jawline, those broad shoulders, that fitted suit… And those eyes would probably have been nice too if they hadn't been staring daggers at her.

' _Oh great, Hinamori, you made him madder.'_

And in the coldest voice he could have used, Ikuto brusquely pushed past her and straightened out his shirt.

" _Watch where the hell you're going."_

It would have been better if he'd yelled at her, she thought. And with that he stormed down the length of the hall with such a stance that clearly showed anyone he wasn't in the mood for their shit, leaving Amu trembling in his wake, shellshocked and embarrassed. He didn't get too far before someone called after him. An older man with light hair and a wonky tie appeared in the doorway, looking concerned and harassed.

" _Ikuto!"_

Ikuto stopped in his tracks down the corridor and let out an agitated sigh. He turned back briefly and growled; "I'll call you when I fucking need you, _Tsukasa."_

Amu, who had been watching the scene completely dumbfounded, jumped involuntarily as his fiery gaze settled back on her. She hadn't realised she'd still been staring.

"Need something, _Strawberry?"_

The jab was enough to make her puff up in protest and she opened her mouth to defend herself when the man beside her (Tsukasa, was it?) stepped forwards.

"Ikuto, come _on!"_

 _SLAM!_

And he was gone, the door banging shut behind him. Amu scowled, unsatisfied.

"Now, now," the man spoke softly, a strained smile on his face and a hand weaving through his light, tousled hair. "No use just waking out like that… I must apologise, miss, for the… rather _unexpected_ outburst there."

Blinking, Amu forced herself back into the present. "Oh, no, no— It's perfectly fine… I _did_ get in the way, after all."

To her surprise, the man let out a small chuckle. "Now, that's still no excuse, miss. But, I'm afraid I can't give you one — Ikuto wasn't particularly thrilled about coming along here tonight to say the least.." He shook his head as if ridding himself of all the trouble Ikuto had given him that night and Amu had to say that she instantly felt at ease with him, if not a little bit sorry for him. He looked as though he'd had more than a few sleepless nights.

"Come," he continued; "if you'll follow me back to the bar, I'll get you a drink to make up for it."

"O-Oh, well, thank you…" Again, Amu felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment. She hadn't picked up his name yet. Panic flared in the back of her mind. She was sure she'd lost a few potential big clients that evening upon _daring_ to forget their names… Yet here the man just smiled softly and began to lead her back to the party.

"Tsukasa Amakawa," he said gently, "in case you were wondering, I am burdened with being Ikuto Tsukiyomi's manager."

She was sure he was joking, but, honestly, she couldn't see the funny side of it. "D-Didn't you want to go after him?"

Tsukasa breezily waved a hand in dismissal. "Oh no, I'm not sure he'll come round after all that. Best I can do is call up on him in the morning."

As they made their way back to the bar, Amu scoffed.

 _The_ Ikuto Tsukiyomi…

Was he nothing more than a child?

And, before she could stop herself, she muttered under her breath;

" _Asshole."_

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* * *

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Amu blinked. The sunlight was too bright this morning. It so intrusively shone through the gap in her curtains and began to drag her out of that blissful state of tranquility between dreams and reality. She groaned, hugging the warm covers closer to her body and glanced briefly up at the clock on her dresser. It was way too early to be awake. _Way_ too early, she thought. All that this time of the morning was good for was lying in bed and pretending that she didn't have anything better to do. God, she wished more than anything in the world that she didn't have to go into work today. Especially after the drama last night in front of the cameras.

Glancing again at the clock and resigning herself to the day ahead, Amu sighed heavily. She didn't feel like keeping up their act today. She and Ikuto… Well, they were _mistaken._ She supposed that was the word for it. She still remembered that night they had first met so very clearly… And whilst she had to admit she hadn't exactly thought too highly of him back then… Well, she thought, grinning a little to herself, things had changed since then...

But, mistaken or not, they were in this mess now and she had a role to play. She couldn't even remember whose idea it had been anyway. Probably Ikuto's. That git.

And, speaking of Ikuto—

" _Amu…"_

"What?"

"Get back here…"

She could barely hold back a smile as his arms encircled her waist, pulling her back beneath the warmth of the bed covers. She settled against his firm chest. Her breath caught in her throat. She was enveloped in his arms, his scent, in just _his_ presence. She felt him nuzzle his face into her hair, one arm draped lazily over her waist. It truly was cruel, she thought, that the working world was calling to her when all she really wanted was to lie here forever with the man who made her heart skip and her spirit soar. She didn't get these moments often - not when they were usually tailed by cameras manned by badly concealed paparazzi.

Amu couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this at peace. She closed her eyes blissfully. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time she'd shared a bed with him…

It took about two minutes for that thought to sink in.

Amu's eyes snapped open.

' _Wait just a minute…'_

"Ikuto?"

Behind her, Ikuto hummed in response.

She shot up in bed, ripping the covers away and ignoring the sudden sting of the cold against her skin. And, of course, there lay the man himself, blinking sleepily in confusion in a way that would have been unbelievably adorable had she not been so dumbfounded.

" _How the heck did you get here?"_ Amu cried. Now that she thought about it, she had definitely been alone when she'd gone to bed last night. She remembered it now, clear as day! Turning out the lights and sprawling out under the covers — absolutely, positively _by herself._

Ikuto still looked half-asleep. Amu briefly wondered if she was still dreaming. She prodded him firmly on the shoulder and was met with an exhausted groan.

"Good morning to you too," he grumbled, shaking his messy blue hair out through his fingers and rubbing the last of the sleep from his eyes. He looked like a big cat. A great, big, sleepy cat. It was inappropriately adorable when she was so taken aback.

"When did _you_ get here?" was all Amu said in return. She shouldn't have been too surprised, to be honest. It wasn't unknown for him to occasionally sneak his way into her apartment and surprise her when she got home or when she woke up the next morning. It wasn't even as if she minded; she was more concerned about someone from the local gossip magazines spotting him as he crept his way into her apartment building in the dead of night. What if one of her neighbours saw him crawling in and thought she was being burgled?! Now wouldn't _that_ just blow their entire cover?

Meanwhile, Ikuto sat up, looking as though he was struggling to recall something. "One? Two? I don't know..."

Amu felt a pang of sympathy in her chest. Now that she looked, he didn't look particularly well-rested. Grey circles stood stark against his gorgeous blue eyes. As it was, he could barely stifle his yawns. She faintly remembered him mentioning something about having to work late and finish up some last-minute recording, but she didn't think he'd be at it so late. He'd even been to speak with his manager after the disaster that was yesterday's chaotic interview. It turned out to be nothing more than a show for the reporters which was probably far more interesting to the public than the actual film they were there to discuss, but it wasn't all that important, she realised, as she guiltily watched her exhausted secret boyfriend.

His voice drew her back to the present. "How long do you wanna sit here and stare at me for?"

Amu didn't even notice her blush anymore. It was too common a reaction for her to be bothered by it at this point. She puffed out her chest, indignant. "I wasn't staring!" she said. She chose to ignore the sly expression that dawned on his face.

"Yes you _were,_ Amu, _love,"_ he purred, smirking devilishly and leaning forward, leaning closer to whisper in her ear as if he were sharing some close-guarded secret; "you're always such a pervert staring at me in my sleep…"

Amu's response was to deal him a swift slap to the back of the head and back yank the covers. She bit her lip in an effort not to grin as she listened to him protest. Smug and satisfied, she stood and pointed towards the door.

"It's about time you left anyway!" Amu demanded. She found his jacket abandoned on the back of the chair at her desk and threw it at him before collecting the rest of his clothes which had been carelessly dumped on her bedroom floor. Honestly. The guy was a mess to keep around. "You've gotta get out of here before I do," she went on, watching over him like an overbearing parent as he began to dress. "If anyone catches you it'll look mighty suspicious!"

Ikuto held back a lengthy groan and slid himself out of bed far too slowly for Amu's liking. "Don't be like that, _Amu,"_ he said. "As if me leaving your apartment block isn't suspicious in the _slightest_ ,"

Deciding to ignore his sarcastic tone (it was too early in the morning for this shit, she decided), Amu just narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't get caught."

"I won't," he scoffed, shrugging on his jacket and retrieving his shoes from somewhere beneath her bed. "I'm sneaky." Ikuto smirked, the light in his eyes dancing deviously. "Like a cat."

"You're awfully cocky for this time of the morning."

Ikuto chuckled — bright and clear and so silky smooth that a shiver ran down Amu's spine. She felt her cheeks begin heat ever-so slightly and looked away, focusing on the plush carpet beneath her feet.

And then a pang of disappointment tugged at her heart. If there was one thing that Amu wanted to hear first thing each and every morning it was that laugh. That humour. That suave and subtle, so _teasing_ voice. She wanted the sight of blue and the scent of spearmint to be the first things to overwhelm her senses; she wanted that first, glorious feel of warmth to come from the heat of his skin against hers; she wanted the first hint of his voice in her ear rather than drifting out over the radio…

She wanted it all and more, constant and comforting, every morning for as long into the future as they could both foresee. And yet here they were sneaking about like teenagers after dark.

Amu had never done this whole secret act for the 'thrill', so to speak. Amu had never done it for the excitement or the rush of adrenaline every time they evaded capture... And, even if it _had_ been enjoyable to see that mischievous gleam in his eyes and to take his hand and go running off into the night, she wasn't sure it was enough anymore. Eventually, every teenager had to grow up.

All of a sudden fingers snapped beneath her nose and Amu blinked, jumping out of her daze. She looked up, completely forgetting to hide her blush, and sunny gold met cobalt blue.

"Hey," Ikuto clicked his long fingers before her face a couple more times, leaning down to look her in the eye. "Strawberry, you still here?" And he smirked, effectively muddling her already muddled senses. "Now, now, Amu, dear, what's got you so pink? I can't _believe_ we're thinking naughty things in front of me…"

Amu balked. " _Wh-wha_ —?"

"You're such a _naughty_ woman," Ikuto sniggered. Of course. If her cheeks had been pink before, they were absolutely ablaze now. "Don't worry, Strawberry, your secret's safe with me."

" _IKUTO! It's time for you to leave!_ Go on! _Shoo,_ before anybody sees you!"

"So rude," Ikuto pouted, grabbing his violin case from the corner of the room and slipping it over his shoulder. He strode back over to her and leant in to place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. "I'll see you at the studio, Amu love."

And he was breezily making his way over to the door, intending to head out of the fire escape in the kitchen as usual rather than using the front entrance, when he paused, a hand still firmly on the doorknob, and glanced back over his shoulder, grinning devilishly.

"Oh, and by the way," he added; "you oughta check out the headlines of today's tabloids. Makes for some interesting reading. See you, Amu."

And, with that, he was gone and Amu was left stood in the middle of her bedroom, consumed by the silence. Outside, clouds were beginning to roll overhead. She thought that the sun was beginning to shine weaker.

Amu forced a scoff and folded her arms over her chest. Facing the tabloids was the least of her worries.

"That idiot better not get caught."

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* * *

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 _A/N_ : Just getting back round to this story, so it feels slightly 'off' I guess. That and this was more of a filler… But, oh well, I need to get a feel for this plotline again. I'd like to keep going with it.


End file.
